FOND FAREWELL

People shuffled from room to room, sad-eyed, murmuring, nibblingon platefuls of cold food. Just an hour earlier Boris Becker hadstunned all of tennis by declaring his retirement from GrandSlam events, and now it was late afternoon at the cozy enclaveon the outskirts of Wimbledon known as the German House. It wasBecker, of course, who by winning the first of his threeWimbledons in 1985 single-handedly created the need for such ahouse, a hub for all the German journalists, players and agentswho've swarmed the tournament ever since. "German tennis" didn'texist before Becker, not in the Open era anyway, and on thisJuly day dozens of reporters and friends packed the living room,waiting for him to appear. Oddly, none of the usual big-storybuzz crackled in the air. It felt like the end of something, andit was.

"Not many people breathe the air he breathes," said his coach,Mike DePalmer.

"He's like a king," said German player Nicolas Kiefer.

Finally Becker arrived. He wore a regal black-and-white warmupsuit. Some women approached, and he kissed each of them on thecheek. "I feel free," he said.

Later, as twilight came down around him, Becker stood alone inthe yard and spoke of what he called "my holy sport." He wasn'tdown. He knows that for all its problems, tennis had formed agood, strong part of his character. He loved the hiddenroughness of the game, its polite cruelty. He was alwaysmystified by the famous Kipling passage that greets each playeron the way to Wimbledon's Centre Court.

"If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster and treat those twoimpostors just the same," Becker recited. "I never understoodwhat it meant. But I'm beginning to understand, and that's whatit was here--a learning process about myself. It hurt the mostwhen I lost here, and I was satisfied the most when I won. But Ihad to come to learn that. A little bit of wisdom, about myself."

It was nearly dark. For everyone else, the gathering seemed likea wake. Becker was happy.